


Homely Cacophony

by kiafeles



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, They're too cute together, but i like it, i dont know where this came from
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:03:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7424767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiafeles/pseuds/kiafeles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo can describe the nuances of his teammates in excruciating detail. The siblings of said teammates are a bit more difficult to describe, but he doesn't mind learning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homely Cacophony

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from. I think I saw art and fell into rare pair hell with open arms.

 

If one is to ask Kuroo to describe Lev, Kuroo will respond with the expected answers: tall, clumsy, often ill-coordinated, and to many, a pain in the butt.

 

Dig a bit deeper, and Kuroo might mention Lev’s tenacity, his determination that, while sometimes misguided, adds to Nekoma’s ferocity in his own unique way.

 

Kuroo is fond of Lev, just as he is fond of every other player on his team. He is their captain, after all. To fake even an ounce of compassion for any of his players would be criminal.

 

Siblings of said players, on the other hand, are much more difficult to describe.

 

Reason number one for this phenomenon is simply a given: that Kuroo doesn’t see the siblings as often as he does the actual players. Occasionally one will attend practice, often to drop off missing gear or simply because they are in the neighborhood, but more often than not, practices and games are left to the players and the players alone.

 

Kuroo doesn’t mind it, either way. Morale can definitely be boosted with a familiar voice in the crowd, but volleyball and the outcome of games always come down to the preparation and hard work put in by the players. No amount of cheering and emotional support can replace a steady foundation.

 

So when Lev’s and Yamamoto’s sisters come to watch their games, Kuroo doesn’t spend too much time staring. The girls are a happy addition to the crowd, chattering with each other throughout the tournament, and he can reasonably admit that they’re unwavering support is endearing. Despite the background noise, however, he keeps his focus on winning, and not on the reactions of their audience.

 

He thinks he specifically hears Yaku mention something about Lev’s sister to Lev in passing, but he quickly forgets the comment, tuned in once more to the match.

 

They lose to Fukurodani, and Kuroo struggles not to break Bokuto’s hand when they shake as captains afterwards, but Nekoma still manages to secure a spot at nationals. Kuroo feels an overwhelming sense of pride for his team, one borne of intense struggle and a palpable success.

 

Yaku’s injury will definitely put a dent in their morale, but it is not an obstacle that is completely insurmountable. Yaku will recover, Kuroo is sure of it, and until then, he will do his best to lead Nekoma to victory.

 

It is riotous and loud after their win, full of cheering from Nekoma’s side and lament from the losers, but Kuroo himself falls into a familiar tension. He has hope for the future, but he still holds a bit of nervous energy, the kind his first year self did so well to quell and which his now third year self hides behind smirks and clever comments. At the moment, however, he pushes his feelings aside. All he can show now is happiness for their present and determination for their future.

 

He gives a small speech to the team, waves Yaku off to the doctor, and prepares for the trip home.

 

For an instant, however, he meets the eyes of Lev’s sister, who is draped over her brother like an affectionate ragdoll. The mismatched colors that greet him are a surprise, one that he hadn’t been able to discern so far away from the stands, and he returns the sudden connection with a timid smile. Alisa gives one back over Lev’s shoulder, a happy, undecorated grin, before her attention returns to her brother and his exuberant boasting.

 

“Did you see that spike when — ”

 

Kuroo tunes Lev out and keeps walking, catching up with Kenma, who is already on his phone.

 

“What are you up to?”

 

“Texting Shouyou.”

 

Kuroo huffs, leaning over Kenma’s shoulder to read the text. Kenma pulls the screen out from his line of sight and Kuroo simply sighs, choosing to fill the spot beside Kenma as he walks, serving as both guidance and support.

 

“Tell him I say hi.”

  
  


♢ 

  
  


Lev comes into practice the next day with a message from his sister. With pride matching that of the lion from which he takes his name, he announces that Alisa has promised to treat everyone to dinner on Saturday, homecooked in the Haiba household. Cheers echo around the gym at the promise of good food, and Kuroo nods in approval, even when Yaku’s appreciation dissolves back into criticism of Lev. The libero may be currently benched, but his arms still worked fine, and Kuroo can practically feel the bruises that Yaku must leave on Lev’s arms as reminders to go home and thank Alisa for her time.

 

When Saturday night comes around, Kuroo walks with Kenma to Lev’s place, fingers tapping on his leg as Kenma’s match his rhythm on his PSP. Lev greets them at the door jovially, inviting them in. His home is spacious, filled with notably mixed Japanese and Russian features, and already hosts some of the other players.

 

“Free booze!” Yamamoto yells out as Kuroo and Kenma enter. Yaku’s ensuing horrified expression is enough to pull a hard laugh out of Kuroo.

 

“That’s not booze, you idiot. Stop waving that jar around!”

 

Lev’s voice cuts in, somewhat panicky. “Hey, get off the couch! Do you know what my mom will do to me if she finds stains on that?”

 

Kuroo expected a party atmosphere, but he now realizes how much he has underestimated his team’s abilities to wreak havoc.

 

With a nod to Fukunaga, who gracefully dips his head back from his position perched on the sofa, Kuroo slowly meanders toward the kitchen, dropping Kenma off at a chair in the corner, where he quickly roosts. 

 

He’s hoping he can pop his head in and help out with the dinner, even if it simply involves setting the table or watching the stove. He’s no homebody, but he has learned some manners, and seeks out to help when he can.

 

Any other urges to leave the group behind in the other room are perfunctory.

 

He spots her at the stove, stirring something that he can’t seem to identify, but it looks like stew. It might even be some sort of Russian cuisine that Lev offhandedly mentioned would be served. 

 

“Lyovochka! Can you get the — ” She stops abruptly when she sees it is not in fact her brother, and Kuroo mimics the action, taking in once more her long flowing hair and bright, open expression, radiant despite her confusion.

 

He remembers, vaguely, a competition with Yaku his first year. He had said he appreciated long hair on girls, didn’t he? He doesn’t remember the details of that pointless and petty argument, but he doesn’t really care for what his past self appreciated in terms of beauty.

 

It doesn’t take Kuroo long to realize how badly such thought processes can affect him.

 

“Um,” he starts, “I was wondering if you needed any help? Since you’re going to such lengths for the team. Oh, and by the way, I’m — ”

 

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” she states proudly. “Middle blocker and captain. Number…?”

 

“One,” he says, laughing slightly. “How did you…?”

 

“Agh!” She flails a bit with the spoon in her hand, and bits of hot stew go flying through the air. “I should have remembered. Number one because you’re the captain, right?”

 

He nods, taking a step further into the kitchen. He notes her dress and matching bow, all at once elegant and youthful.

 

“I’ve been trying to learn everyone on Lev’s team, you see. That way I can cheer for your individual plays come nationals.”

 

“Oh, you’re coming to those games as well?” Kuroo raises a brow. He has siblings and parents, but they’ve hardly, if ever, attended any of his games over the three years of his high school volleyball career. It’s endearing, to see a sibling so dedicated to her brother’s pastime, especially when said brother is relatively new to the sport.

 

“Oh yes.” She places the spoon back in the pot and resumes stirring, although her mind clearly shows that she is no longer focused on her immediate task. “I want to see you all win, of course.”

 

Kuroo is chuckling before he catches himself, remembering the reason he came in the first place. “Do you need help with that? With anything?” He steps forward, reaching a hand out before awkwardly replacing it at his side.

 

“This is almost finished. But you can — hmm.” She squints, surveying the room around her for a moment, and Kuroo finds himself swallowing, hard. Dare he say it but, the habit is almost...cute. Certainly adorable, he finally decides.

 

“Here,” she finally settles, reaching down to tug at a large bag of rice underneath the counter. “Help me cook this. Sorry,” she chuckles, “I’m a bit behind. But don’t tell the boys.”

 

“You don’t have to apologize,” he replies, scooping out a generous portion of rice. He sets to work helping her for a few moments, and the silence is comforting and busy, but in a way that seems wholly domestic.

 

He swallows again, feels a bit of that same nervous energy building up, much like that which he feels before giving a team speech or blocking that first ball in a match, and blinks. He then promptly stares as the stew, which has been left unattended as Lev’s sister peels potatoes at the sink, begins to boil over.

 

He curses and lunges for it, at the same moment that he hears a clang and a dull thud. He realizes a moment too late that Alisa has felt the same hurried urgency, and too late does the pot scrape backwards across the stove, opposite two desperate humans who collide together. 

 

Alisa stumbles and Kuroo steps backwards, holding out a hand to steady both himself and her, and their eyes meet for a charged moment. Kuroo takes in a deep breath, but as soon as the moment is announced, it’s over. Alisa grabs a towel off the counter and hastily wipes up spilled stew, turns the heat down, and takes a deep breath, before giggling at her state. 

 

The sounds of the house all at once overtake Kuroo — the occasional yells from outside, where some of the boys have found a volleyball, some beeping and soft murmuring where Kenma and Fukunaga and Yuuki remain in the other room, and the sounds of the kitchen’s numerous appliances, whirring with lives of their own. They all blend together in a homely cacophony, but one sound resounds above the others.

 

Kuroo’s expression softens as Alisa’s giggles intensify, and Kuroo relies on all the powers within him to break the song.

 

“I’m sorry, Haiba-san,” he breathes, discovering that he has begun laughing himself, “I didn’t mean to — ”

 

“Alisa,” she corrects, “and don’t worry about it. It’ll taste better that way.”

 

“Better?” he asks, bewildered. 

 

“Of course. Now we’ve added some fun to it. The recipe will reflect that.”

 

He’s not so sure he believes her, but he can’t tear his eyes away.

 

They finish soon after with no more incidents, and dinner is a cheerful event. At the urging of the first years, Kai recounts (for the sixteenth time, Kuroo notes) the match against Nohebi, despite the fact that everyone here saw it with their own eyes. The room listens with rapt attention and enjoys the meal, giving Alisa plenty of gratitude as they scarf down bite after bite of the admittedly unique but delicious mix of Japanese and Russian dishes.

 

When it seems like the conversation has slowed down, and hands have stop passing hurriedly over the table, Alisa shares a look with Lev and stands, clearing her throat.

 

“So, before I begin, I just want everyone to know that Akane and I prepared this, even though I’ll be the one speaking.”

 

Eyes drift to Akane, who had arrived later than everyone else, but now sits rapt with attention. She gives Alisa a big grin, and Alisa resumes.

 

“We are so incredibly proud of you all. Making it to nationals is no easy task, and you all faced great adversity to be where you are today. Know that everyone here is so incredibly valuable to the team, each in his own unique way. You make us proud to cheer for Nekoma.”

 

Loud cheering goes around the table, and Kuroo finds himself beaming. Glancing to his side, he finds even Kenma staring at Alisa, taking in her words. His childhood friend may propose that he doesn’t care for the sport, but even Kuroo can make out the signs of satisfaction in Kenma’s straightened back and easy expression.  

 

“So go out there and win for us! You are, as one captain has dutifully stated before, the blood in the veins of your team.”

 

Groans go around the room, but they are comedic and followed by rolled eyes and hefty laughs.

 

Kuroo realizes that either Lev or Akane must have told Alisa about his pre-game speech then, and he feels a bit of pride at the notion that it has reached the ears of those off the court.

 

“Feed oxygen to the brain, but also to your heart. Because it is there that you will find your victory. Not simply with pure thought, but with the life of your team.”

 

A final round of happy shouts echo around the room, and Kuroo finds himself joining in them, happy and carefree. He glances over and catches Alisa staring at him, and takes a deep breath, ready to speak up. That is, before Akane stands up and begins to speak.

 

“So you all better win! Nekoma hasn’t been to nationals since — ”

 

Her discussion of team statistics and other remarkably detailed volleyball facts rejuvenates the chaotic energy of the room, and the teammates soon find themselves spread about the house once more. Kuroo ends up lingering in a doorway, where he can see both the hallway that leads to the kitchen and the entrance to the main room. He sips on a glass of water and taps his foot against the wood frame of doorway, absentmindedly twirling it and his glass around and around.

 

“I hope you don’t mind that I stole your thunder. Your speech sounds awfully cheesy, but I felt it was right to mention. And they all like it, even if they don’t act it.”

 

Kuroo starts when Alisa comes to stand beside him, but grins back deviously.

 

“Of course they like it,” he takes another sip from his glass and continues. “Anyone that tells you otherwise is either lying or simply doesn’t appreciate my inspirational fortitude.”

 

“Inspirational fortitude?” she laughs beside him, “Is it that, or are you simply uninspired to invent any other speeches?”

 

He nearly coughs on his drink then, but covers the sudden blush from his cheeks with the excuse that he is choking. She gives a small apology, but the twinkle in her eyes tell otherwise, and the pair falls into companionable silence, interrupted only by Kuroo occasionally clearing his throat, or a small huff as Alisa laughs at the sounds that flow around them.

 

Lev reappears in their line of sight a bit later, spotting the two of them as they stand together apart from the group. He blinks at them, slowly and seriously.

 

Lev may not be that sharp in practice, but even he can be intuitive when it matters. He opens his mouth as if to call out to Kuroo, then flicks his eyes to Alisa, but Yaku has already grabbed his hand, determined to drag him back outside, despite the libero’s limp and despite the dropping temperatures. The whole spectacle of the action keeps Kuroo from questioning Lev’s unspoken words too much, but he chuckles at the possibilities.

 

Kuroo spots Alisa giving an amiable expression beside him, one that shines with intelligence and kindness. Smiling brightly to him, she pushes forward, and says the words Kuroo has been struggling to articulate all night.

 

Kuroo says yes.


End file.
